The Story of a Warrior
My name is Amanda Skok. I am the mom of eight-year-old twins. I have been a Certified Law Enforcement Officer since 2010 and in law enforcement since 2009. I am a warrior, otherwise known as a domestic violence survivor. I have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress (Disorder), although I don’t believe it is a disorder, in the aftermath of four years of mental, verbal, sexual, and financial abuse.
To give a back story, I met my abuser while I was on patrol. He was a Law Enforcement Officer in one of the towns that I regularly patrolled. The old joke was that I almost wrote him a ticket. I moved in with him in 2014 and life was supposed to be amazing. Shortly after we had our first huge fight, I was accused of lying to him and that was the beginning of a four-year battle. In the course of six months, I had lost almost one hundred pounds. I had dropped from a size sixteen in women’s clothing to a size zero. He would keep me up for days at a time, screaming at me, charging me, and threatening me. The longest he kept me awake was fifty-six hours. I would go weeks without eating anything more than a small pack of Oreo cookies.
During this time, he systematically removed everything and everyone I loved or cared about. It started with my co-workers, then my best friend, then people in my family, my car, my job, and my belongings. I could no longer seek solitude in anyone. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere by myself, including the bathroom. If we weren’t together, I had to be on the phone with him. If that was not an option, I had to record everything I did. I wasn’t allowed to shower without permission or him in the shower with me. In addition, I wasn’t allowed to shave, brush my teeth, or put on lotion, makeup, or perfume. The list of things I wasn’t allowed to do included, but was not limited to, smiling at anyone, holding a conversation, texting, calling, or emailing anyone. He threatened to hurt me, my coworkers, my friends, and my family.
In 2015, I found out I was pregnant with twins. Shortly after, I was terminated from my dream job. Then, he put his hands on me for the second time. He never left bruises because “I’m not stupid enough to leave a mark,” but would often punch the walls or furniture where I was standing or sitting. When my babies were three months old, I left him. The night I left, he tried to drag me across the yard by my hair as I was carrying my babies out to the car. I called the police, but because he was in law enforcement, I was basically told I didn’t stand a chance. I went back three months later. On my third attempt, I finally left him. It was my birthday.
Here’s where I get religious on you but listen to what I have to say, please. He made me question everything and everyone I had ever known. I never stopped praying for a sign or an answer. Opportunities started coming. My Grandmother’s rental property became available, I got a good tax return, support from those whom I had to hurt so badly started trickling through, and Mr. God placed an amazing support system at the job I was at. The day I put in my two-week notice, to start the process of moving, I was on my way home crying and praying “God, I need a sign, I need to know this is the right thing to do. I’m so scared. I can’t do this.” It was at this moment I looked, and the car in front of me had a license plate that said “BESTILL” and the car beside it “GDPRVDS.” Two weeks later, I loaded my babies, two dogs, and everything of theirs I could fit in my vehicle and left for good.
Fast forward seven years, I am back in Law Enforcement, the Director of Public Safety over four departments in five locations, I have two beautiful children, a house, my family, friends, a fiancé, and most importantly mine and my children’s lives. I currently serve on the Board of Directors at the Care Lodge and use any chance I get to share my story to provide hope and understanding. We are making new memories, a new life, and a new start. I still have anxiety, I still struggle with the side effects of PTS(D), but every day I get stronger. I smile more, breathe easier, and trust that no matter what… God’s got us. Before I leave you, I want to encourage you that if you are in a situation similar to mine, if you have depression, or have things you are fighting in your life, it’s okay, you’re okay, keep fighting. It’s okay to ask for help. YOU ARE A WARRIOR!!!
“We are broken, but our flaws make us distinct. NOTHING is so broken that it cannot be fixed.”
